


Prayer Necklace

by altairattorney



Series: I wish there was another way [1]
Category: Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice (Video Game)
Genre: A lot of feels, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Not really but tagging for safety, Return Ending, Spoilers, canon-compliant fix-it, working on canon possibilities thank you Miyazaki for your sliver of mercy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 20:30:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20233921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altairattorney/pseuds/altairattorney
Summary: At the end of their separate journeys, they have to meet again. And they start counting.





	Prayer Necklace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [organicgold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/organicgold/gifts).

In Ashina, not far from a moonlit field, a castle was singing its last song.

Explosions shook its foundations like thunder, accompanied by a choir of screams. Soldiers wailed, on both sides, with blood-lust and agony. Bones were crushed, stomped under heavy boots. Walls collapsed.

And yet, somehow, everything around Wolf was silent.

Nothing seemed to exist beyond Kuro's ragged breathing, or the inhuman effort in each of his movements. He felt them all, as if the gravity of their fate were pushing against his limbs like a dead weight.

Ever so light he had been, and so heavy now. So strong, so frail.

Wolf tightened his grip, fighting back tears.

It was an instinct to move his hand again, softly, not to disrupt the delicate thread still tying Kuro to life. As he always responded to pain, to the fierce sting of his eyes, he did once more. Without a thought, his fingers were already there, grasping at the smooth curves of the gourd.

Still untouched, a few drops of medicine glistened under the moon. His gaze mirrored their shine.

_Let it do something_, he prayed.

“My lord, drink this,” he whispered, supporting Kuro's head as best as he could. “It was meant for you.”

Even such small gulps made Wolf's forearm tremble with their weight. Little by little, the healing liquid flowed throughout Kuro's face, restoring the slightest tint of life to his complexion.

But the gash was deep, and he was the only other human being to know how much the Mortal Blade hurt. They were together – alone – even in that.

It seemed like, to them, the world must end at the edge of that field.

“Wolf,” Kuro called, seeking his shinobi's attention with a feeble tug at his sleeve. “H-help me.”

His cheeks were now wet, brightened by thin, familiar streams that Wolf had never been allowed to dry.

_I have to get him to the temple,_ he thought, cradling Kuro closer as he rose to his feet. _For his sake._

“My lord. You will be fine. Now... try to stay awake.”

_For me._

“Listen to the sound of my voice.”

* * *

_In other times, Kuro would have been happy._

_The rice mix, sparkling with fresh water, felt even softer in his hands than he had expected. A hint of a pungent breeze from the windows made him think of snow._

_Driven by the sweet aroma of his dish, he paused. For a while, he could not do nothing but observe the empty incense burner._

_Kuro loved cooking. This time, however, he was afraid._

_“Emma, do you think he will be fine?”_

_She returned to him, a full pot of water in her hands. As always, a kind light of her own graced her features, welcoming and warm._

_“I see no need to worry about him, lord Kuro,” she replied. “He is, after all, very strong... and quite well-cared for, as far as I can tell. Isn't he?”_

_He shyly lowered his head, to focus on the preparation again. Of how he cared for Wolf, he never dared to speak. He feared that, he moment he talked, the stakes would rise – more to cherish, express, inevitably lose._

_Too much to bear, he thought, for both of them._

_He didn't find it in him to smile back._

_“It's not... exactly what I mean,” he said, rolling a bit of rice between his hands in a tense motion. “I have been dreaming... of terrible things. I-”_

_He turned to face the open window – anywhere, if it meant looking away from her. Emma had the sharpest intellect he knew of; moreover, her calling was to heal, nurse, discover. Find things out._

_As he had been trained to do, he regained his composure._

_“He is too strong for his own good,” he explained, with gravity. “That is what I am afraid of”._

And it is all because of me_, a voice in his head lamented, as it had countless times. _I should never have done this to him. It was cruel, damaging. It was selfish. I-

_“Lord Kuro...” Emma said, her eyes gentle yet firm in their worry. “It is close to your bedtime, and... I am sure lord Isshin's mood did not help yours today. Getting some sleep earlier than usual might be beneficial to you.”_

_“Thank you, Emma. I will see to finishing this first.”_

_She nodded to him, then walked away, to close the windows for the night. It wasn't long before Kuro, focused as he was on his cooking, felt a respectful hand lean on his shoulder._

_“I will still be here,” she added. “If you ever wish to speak about it, be sure you can tell me anytime.”_

* * *

“Do not stop counting, my lord,” Wolf repeated, his hands holding Kuro's small ones into place.

Just outside the secret passage door, Ashina castle still set the night on fire. From there, the last sounds of an exhausted battle reached his well-trained ears. He listened, patient, and waited in silence.

But the prayer necklace twined in their fingers, touched by the night air, felt cold as death. Wolf's blood turned to ice with every touch, the glass a terrible reminder of what could be.

“Fifth bead. Fifth bead... fourth seed.”

“Four... seeds,” Kuro wheezed.

“This is a a special seed,” Wolf said, raising the gourd to his master's lips again. “I found it within the deep valley below. You were right – a wind so icy and strong, I had never felt anywhere. I thought my fingers would freeze and fall off before I made it across the gorge. Icicles dangle from the narrow caves, and lone gunmen hide within, protected by overcoats of feathers. Please, take another sip, my lord... good. Do you remember the valley?”

“The valley... is dangerous,” Kuro replied, finding a hint of vitality in his terrifying weakness. “Wolf... don't...”

“It's fine, my lord. I am not going anywhere.”

“I'm glad...”

“When I was in the valley, I meant, I found it.” Wolf paused, painfully aware of the crack in his voice. “Past the largest formation of icicles, I found the fourth seed. And the scenery, no one could ever imagine. The glorious mountains of Ashina... I had never stopped to look at once, lord Kuro, before you sent me there. I can't... I won't forget. Good... then... fourth seed. Sixth-”

He paused to listen. He found nothing but their breathing, wrapped in a somber, deep silence. Reluctantly, he crawled towards the exit.

No one to be heard or seen, except for the horrible smell of burnt flesh. The flames were subsiding. Wolf wondered if fire, or anything else, could have a soul as hollow and tired as his own.

“At last... at last, it is safe to leave,” he said, picking Kuro up again. “Do have a little more to drink, my lord. Excellent. Let us go.”

* * *

_“I dreamt of him, Emma,” Kuro said, on the verge of tears. “I dreamt that I was asleep beside him, but my consciousness awake – all of me was there, except my limbs. He called to me, and I could not answer. He tried to hold me... then he said words that made no sense, or I did not hear in full. He dissolved in flowers, in silence, without another gesture. The moment after... he sat by a dimmed light, carving I don't know what. I wanted to touch him, call his name, let him know I was there. It did not work. I screamed, again and again. I was still screaming when I awoke.”_

_“Lord Kuro... I...”_

_“He only arrived three hours later that morning, and there was nothing I found it in myself to tell him,” he sobbed. “May I never have to regret it.”_

* * *

“I am so sorry about the darkness, my lord. Hold on. This is the quickest way.”

They floated on a wooden vessel, along the waterway that would lead them to the lift. Although Kusabimaru was now sheathed – and the worst of the passage gone, he hoped – Kuro still held on to his neck. Wolf could feel the effort coursing throughout his small body.

At least, thanks to Emma, he seemed to be out of immediate mortal danger, and a little energy was returning to him. For that, Wolf was glad.

Regardless, the shinobi did not have the heart to make him let go. He only helped him rest, offering his arm as extra support.

“No matter what, don't fall asleep, lord Kuro. Here, you can drink a little more. Yes, good... sixth seed, then... twelve beads?”

“Twelfth bead...”

“Oh, I bought that one,” he said. “Not far from where we came in, in fact. It is a special bead for that very reason. One like no other.”

“R-really?...”

“Really,” Wolf confirmed, feeling a little more awake himself. “You will find no prayers where we are. Dark, deep places should be left to the damned.”

_Aren't we damned, too?_

He dismissed the thought.

“... demons?”

“Don't be afraid, my lord. It is true, there used to be plenty of ominous purple light around these parts. Until I passed through, I guess.”

Wolf heard faint laughter, and held on a little tighter.

He felt glad no one could see his face.

* * *

_“I dreamt a demon preyed upon Ashina. Emma, the fire of gunpowder is nothing compared to what I saw. He collapsed buildings with his breath, killing hundreds with a touch, and he raged on and on...”_

_“I am sorry, lord Kuro. So many concerns weigh on your heart. Please, let me know if I can ever help.”_

_“Thank you, Emma. But my dream was stranger yet. You see... when the world was ash, and nothing was left but me, he turned to look at me. I was so scared. But in the depths of his gaze, I- I saw...”_

_“With ease, lord Kuro.”_

_“Yes. I simply... saw the past. The bamboo thicket outside my home, and then the grass, drenched in sunlight. I must have been a young child, for I saw my parents. I remember that day I tumbled on a rock, and cried... of course, there was no blood...”_

_“Did you see anything different in your dream?”_

_“I did. I was bleeding profusely. I had a gash in my chest, and everyone had vanished, it seems. I thought no one was there, but then... Wolf came running, to lift me and take me home. I looked up as he held me, and his eyes...”_

_“Yes?”_

_“His eyes were just the same as the demon I had seen. I woke up crying.”_

* * *

“Beautiful...”

Kuro's gaze was dim, but the wonder in it remained palpable.

Even from the narrow crevice of the idol, the splendour of Mount Kongo spread uninhibited ahead of them. It looked like a miracle, a gift of color and life in the early morning.

Wolf felt a breath of memory, an inkling of that marvel, and his heart grew stronger.

“It is,” he agreed. “And the seventh seed, I found near here. Very well... please drink again, my lord.”

While Kuro took another bitter sip of medicine, Wolf glanced quickly at his chest. From what he could tell, the bleeding had stopped, and he had been painless long enough to regain a little hope.

The air around him suddenly seemed new, breathable and fresh, as if it hadn't been so since the beginning of time.

Kuro fidgeted in his arms, and his brown eyes widened, just enough for Wolf to notice. Albeit pale and shaken by the short grappling hook path, his master was starting to look inquisitive. Wolf welcomed it, at least, as a sign of recovery.

“Wolf... you alright?”

“Don't worry about me,” the shinobi replied, warmly. “I want to hear how you are feeling.”

“... little cold... tired... hungry.”

“I'm sorry, my lord. Give me a moment.”

Ignoring a strong pang of guilt, Wolf pulled his scarf off, and wrapped it around the child as fast as possible. With relief, he found the wind had pushed a few dry branches inside the cave. He shifted his position, so that Kuro could rest close to them, and lit them up with his prosthetic arm.

“Wolf... what are you...?”

Wolf moved around for a little bit, to finally extract a round shape from his pouch.

“Here is a persimmon, Lord Kuro. I... hear they grow ripe and delicious in the area. There you go, small bites... and a little more medicine.”

For a while, he did not notice the humid veil clouding Kuro's eyes. He did eventually, when he felt the bundle on his chest being shaken by weak sobs.

“Wolf... t-thank you... I...”

The shinobi's whole mind froze. On their own, his hands tightened around the scarf with a little more strength. He was not ready for this.

“It is my duty to you, my lord. Just rest for now.”

Kuro, ever noble and fiery in his purposes, looked up to him. An indomitable spirit, contained in such a small body. It had never failed to surprise, and enchant, him.

“Tell me... why are we...?”

If souls could have sighed, Wolf thought, his was doing so for sure. He took deep breaths, and collected all he knew.

“We are here to end the Dragon's Heritage,” he explained, as honest as he could be. “There will be all the time to answer your questions, when we arrive... which will happen soon, if we are fortunate.”

“I... I understand...”

Wolf felt his heart sink. He couldn't find it in himself to admit he was not sure of what would happen, either. And he, at the very core of his hidden, scarred existence, was afraid.

But nothing, real or not, could have erased the image of the worst – a wounded child, abandoned by the world, bleeding out in the middle of a silvergrass field.

“Do you trust me, my lord?”

“With... my life.”

As never before in his existence, a tear fell from Wolf's eye that he didn't conceal. He lowered his head, listening to the howl of the wind in the valley, and let it meet the stony ground alone.

It reminded him of another realm, sunk in the light of a thousand pearls, and a gift of tears like no other in the world.

He stood to face the gorge, lifting Kuro up with him.

“Very well... then...”

Wolf tied his scarf around the child's limbs, not to get it in his way, and walked upon the precipice of Shugendo. His right arm, steely with resolve, was firm around his master's waist.

He was ready.

“Hold on to me, my lord, and rest. I will take care of things.”

“...Thank you.”

* * *

_“I slept well, Emma. Thank you very much. All I remember is a riverside hut... the area had something heavenly to it, as beautiful as an enchanted palace. Near it, I believe, was a shamisen player. I don't remember much of her, but her melody was somber, pleasant. Quite comforting.”_

_“Interesting, lord Kuro. I am glad you found some rest tonight.”_

_But Kuro lowered his gaze, warmed by the steam over his cup, and smiled to himself. The other vision, he wanted to keep his own – as if it were an apparition, dangerous to reveal to others._

_He had seen a man who looked familiar, very much so. A young man, dark hair and eyes. A visage sculpted by the radiant touch of happiness. He was brewing tea in the golden light of a summer afternoon, and all around him were paper folding screens. The walls, the lamps, the air quivered with joy and laughter._

_A man from the past – a shinobi, his shinobi – sat in a remote corner of the establishment, looking onto the garden. The young man moved to sit next to him, and offered him a warm cup. They enjoyed a moment's rest, an abundance of rice balls between them._

_To Kuro, that image was precious china. Unique in the world, extremely fragile. He kept it safe in his heart._

_If dreams were premonitions, he knew exactly which one he wanted to be true._

* * *

At the gate of the inner sanctum, right after the thud of his landing, Kuro cried out in pain.

It was a loud scream, followed by a haunting echo. Wolf found himself bathed in it, from all over the gorge, and for the first time – in days, in years,_ ever_ – he thought he would succumb to panic.

“What happened, my lord? Are you wounded? Was it me?”

Kuro did not have the strength to answer. He could do nothing but cry and cry, in a way that Wolf never remembered him doing. The next thing he knew, the brown fabric of his yukata had grown dark with an even bigger patch of blood.

“The wound,” Wolf stuttered, his ears ringing. “The cold... the wind... the impacts. I couldn't... I... I am so, so sorry. My lord. I... please, drink all you can.”

In a feverish daze, he grabbed the gourd and brought it to Kuro's lips, lifting his head for support. But he could barely stop wailing, and when he did, his teeth chattered as if he had been buried in snow.

Wordless images chased themselves in Wolf's mind, falling on him one by one. Pure white, eternal flowers. Pure tears. White flowers. The petals and the swinging grass and the moonlit wind, moving like a dirge on the pale limbs of his master.

“Lord Kuro... stay with me. Listen. Drink up slowly... yes, like this. I haven't told you everything yet. About the last bead... the last seed. The palace of eternal springwater. The way long willow branches and sakura trees sway in the wind, near the altar of the divine dragon. The smell of your flowers was everywhere – the smell of every time you brought me back, every time I felt you near. The graceful women warriors, playing together... the buildings ethereal as the trees, as the scales of the noblest of fish.”

“Wolf –”

“Listen to me, Kuro,” the shinobi pleaded, his voice closest to despair than it had ever been. “I have to tell you... for you could not be there yourself. I could not bring you along. I could not stay with you. I wish I had... I had never left you... or brought you with me, and kept you safe. I could not save you. I could not help you. It was all – ”

“Wolf... I...”

“It was... all my fault.”

“I am s-sorry.”

From the perfumed darkness of her chambers, the Divine Child opened her eyes little by little. The morning was fresh, bathed in dew. On the edge of her door, a shadow lingered, respectfully.

He carried an unconscious body in his arms, and his head hung low. Her face lit up.

“Shinobi of the Divine Heir,” her voice greeted him, delicate as glass chimes. “The time has come. Please, get closer.”

* * *

_“I dreamt I was a majestic creature. An eternal, flowing being, bathed in noble light straight from the heavens. Though the world around me was clouds and spirits, I felt threatened and open to attack. Stupor canceled out my power._

_A figure I did not recognize loomed on the horizon, as small as it was dangerous to me. A threat. I let the scent of sakura awaken my limbs, and the heavenly thunder roll throughout my bones._

_I felt my feet rooted deep in the soil, as if I were a serpent and a tree at the same time. I brandished a mighty shichishito, forged in the purest green springwater. But when I thought a hit would land, every time, my body was split open by lightning._

_I fainted. I do not know what happened next. But in that moment, I understood two things beyond doubt:_

_I was a timeless dragon, and I cried for him._

_If they were tears of relief or loss, I still do not know.”_

* * *

Since his departure, Wolf's life had been enriched by many sights. Most of them, he could not have retold to anyone. He had no words for the touches of colour on the western mountains, or the rolling waves born when the wind combed the rice fields.

By the end of their year-long wandering, he thought to have laid eyes on most, if not all, things within a mortal or immortal's reach. When he entered the core of the divine realm, once more and yet like never, he felt sure of it.

Yet, at the very end, he had to change his mind.

They were alone – two humans and the dragon, whose blessing and curse flowed in his veins. Bathed in golden light, the Divine Child raised her arms towards his maws.

The sight of what would come next, Wolf understood, no life could ever have prepared him for.

He cried a shower of tears in her joined palms. The waterfall formed crystals around them, capturing unimaginable forms. And then – when the ritual had fallen on them like snow, and a network of transparent leaves had spread all around – everything stopped.

A myriad of sakura petals sprang forth from the Divine Child's heart, right where he had seen them appear a long time before. They aggregated at her side, obedient, forming a shape Wolf had never managed to forget.

“Wolf,” the figure called out, eyes full of tears as luminous as sunlight. “It's me.”

The shinobi had no answer good enough to offer. He fell to his knees instead, his heart bursting, and opened his arms.

He accepted the desperate embrace of a creature who had been abandoned, hopeless, immortal and alone for much too long to express. They both cried.

“You don't need to tell me anything, Wolf,” Kuro said, his whole body bright as his smile in the light of the divine realm. “By myself, I saw everything. I remembered everything. And this time, I was with you all along.”

Wolf looked at him, tirelessly, bones and flesh and hair and skin. Kuro was right there, just the way he remembered him.

He only raised his head towards the Divine Child after several moments. Her gentle nod confirmed what he had struggled to believe. It was over.

He lifted Kuro up in his arms, like his master, like his long lost child, like he had done in their last moments together.

“None of that matters now, lord Kuro,” Wolf replied, his whole soul swimming among the clouds around them.

“I know.”

“Are you ready?”

“I am”.

“Well then. Let us go back home.”

**Author's Note:**

> A gigantic story mostly written for me, to deal with all the feelings this game gave me, and for my girlfriend, who two years ago exactly chose to bear with me and be my life companion forever. We hold each other up, and I will never have words to thank her for her love. But I can offer some of my silly writing. And so it is.
> 
> I have a lot of thoughts about Wolf, Kuro and all the other characters. Most of all, I wanted to give them the chance to go back home and live the life they wanted, human, happy and unscathed. IN THEIR TEAHOUSE. Now they can have it all. :^)
> 
> Over time, I will maybe process them better. For now, I hope you guys enjoyed this word wall.


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